Tonight I saw Florence + the Machine's first ever North American show and it was the most mesmerizing, glorious experience I've ever had at a concert. It was at times a theatrical extravaganza, a revival meeting and a rave. I can't even put into words how incredible it was - I can only say that seeing that lovely silent-movie star looking slip of an English lass one would never expect that when she opened her mouth there was such glory to be found. She sings from the tip of her toes, with every follicle of hair, a voice that is bigger than anything. I was honored and lucky to be able to see her play.
Check out the fantastic Florence Daily site, which is where the picture comes from!
(My favorite song of the night was Howl, seen here from her performance in Glastonbury)
There is another brief review of the show and tons of gorgeous photos at the brooklynvegan site!
I know that I've been talking about Florence + the Machine for almost as long as I've been writing this blog, but the debut album Lungs is finally available in the USA today. I hope you'll check it out!
Also if you know where a fellow can find a single, solitary ticket for next Tuesday's show at the Bowery... let me know. it is sold out. *sadface*
I saw Anna Ternheim last night at Bowery Ballroom. She was the first of three acts, but she was the reason I went, along with my friend Ayana. First off, I think I gasped when she took the stage because she's absolutely beautiful. Her set list:
Better be (Anna on guitar & with pianist) (with band from Loney Dear) -Let it rain -Black Sunday -To be gone -What have I done -No I don’t remember I’ll follow you tonight (again only Anna & pianist)
I was so happy that the one song I was hoping she'd play was the first and Ayana's favorite was the one she played last. She also played the two songs that mean the most to me, "To be gone" (which is actually my ringtone) and "What have I done" (which is the first song of hers I heard, back in the spring.) She announced that she would be signing her CDs after the set, but I hadn't brought any with me to be signed- never expecting that she would be doing that. However, we went to the merch table & since there were no t-shirts (I love the designs for her latest album) I bought a tote bag and a trio of badges, which you can also purchase from her website. This is the t-shirt I was hoping to find, but the tote has the same great design:
We waited a few minutes and soon she came down the stairs. She saw me & said "Oh, you bought a bag! I must sign it!" I went "really?" and thanked her for coming to play. Then Ayana said "It's his birthday, can you give him a hug? He speaks Swedish!" to which I replied, "no, no... no..." But I did tell her that her music has really helped get me through the last year, to which she seemed thankful. Ayana spoke to her about a town in Sweden where she'd spent a summer and was thrilled that Anna spoke a little Swedish when she replied. Also, she is as tall as me, which was surprising. So lovely! Anyway, we walked back up to Union Square to catch our trains, only then did I unfold the tote bag to see the autograph, which reads: "Happy Birthday! Anna Ternheim." It's actually incredibly awesome, as Ayana randomly bought me a pair of black Converse last year as a birthday gift - in October. And since I probably wouldn't have stayed to wait if it had just been me (to avoid saying something as open and raw as "your music has really gotten me through the last year") I wouldn't have gotten my bag signed without her.
I’m pretty sure that the first time I heard about Jonathan Larson’s musical, Rent, was while sitting in a waiting room while my mom had a doctor’s appointment somewhere in South Miami. That week Adam Pascal and Daphne Rubin-Vega were on the cover of Newsweek. I read the entire article and the story was so compelling. I continued to hear & read more and more about the show. I pre-ordered the cast album. When I got it and heard it I was so deeply moved. It was love at first listen. I shared my enthusiasm with Lisa, who became equally obsessed. In fact, she scored some awesome posters. Mine is still on the door of my room back in Miami.
So excited were we that we actually made plans to travel to New York to see the show on March 13, 1997. My mom & Dave joined us and it would be our first trip to New York City. Of course this meant flying. I hate flying. Even though at that point, I’d only flown one time (well twice) from Miami to L.A. and back, but that had been enough. I don’t think I felt any better when they showed a trailer for our in-flight movie, Michael, featuring the song “Goin’ on up to the spirit in the sky…” It was quite a shock stepping out into the March weather. It was in the 30s and in Miami, it had been 80-something. I got used to it eventually, and even liked the cold. The hotel we stayed in was the Ameritania on 54th & Broadway, right next to the Ed Sullivan Theater, where they tape the Late Show with David Letterman.
We were a bit freaked out because as we walked into the hotel, we saw a bare lobby that was stripped of anything except for an abandoned counter. The reason we got such a cheap deal is because they were renovating the hotel. We couldn’t check in till 3 (my mom thought it was because they were still renovating our room) so we left our luggage and walked to the Hard Rock Café on 57th street. I was disappointed that among the memorabilia they didn’t have any of Courtney Love’s ripped stockings or an empty bottle of Tori Amos Red Hair Dye.
When we went back to the hotel we were led through the bar that adjoined the empty lobby where a temporary check-in counter had been set up. Our room was on the second floor and, as mom suggested, they were still renovating that floor. In fact, the bellhop had trouble finding our room because there was no number on the door yet. A few minutes later Lisa called to let us know that she’d been there for a few hours. We met up with her and headed across the street for dinner, probably to a TGI Fridays. Then we walked 13 blocks down to the Nederlander Theatre for the show. We were in the fourth row. It was… well…
An e-mail I sent out at the time: “The performance was incredible! I don’t know if it was a particularly exceptional night for them (Timothy Britten Parker – Steve – mentioned something to that effect) or if it was just the excitement of my first Rent experience, but the energy was amazing. I really cried so much, mostly tears of joy, I think, just from being there… Anthony Rapp… is like a bundle of energy or something, I swear! We saw Darius De Haas as Collins (he was so great) and Mark Setlock as Angel. As we left the theatre, I was debating with Lisa about how to pronounce Gilles Chiasson (Squeegee Man)’s name and I noticed that she had the oddest look on her face, so I turned around to see him looking over at us with a smile. He corrected us. Then I went to drop some money in Daphne Rubin-Vega’s bucket (they were out collecting money for Broadway Cares after the show) and told her that I came all the way up from Miami to see the show. She was incredibly sweet and I shook her hand and can honestly say that she made this gay man turn into a pool of mushy goo. Outside, I spoke with Timothy for a bit and he was super nice – the only person I remembered to ask to sign my Playbill, actually.” D’oh!!! “When Adam Pascal came out everyone went crazy… I took a photo of him and Lisa (I actually said Say cheese!)” double D’oh!! “Fredi Walker was chatting with some women when finally Anthony came out and was pretty much bombarded. He noticed a button that I was wearing… I kinda fled, but Lisa kept telling me that he noticed me as soon as he walked out, that he kept looking at me and that he seemed like he wanted to talk a little more. My head hurts from hitting myself over and over again for my stupidity!!! Could have flirted with cutest boy from Rent… aaargh!!!”
We spent Friday sightseeing and hunting for that infamous Deborah Gibson CD But before that hunt began, Lisa & I decided that we had to see the show again before the weekend was over. Lisa tracked down tickets, but only individual ones, for Saturday. I had to see the matinee because my flight was leaving at 6:30. Lisa got herself a ticket for the 8:00 show. My mom & Dave did their own thing that night as I had plans to meet up with some friends: Shawn, who had come down from Massachusetts to meet me and Miki, who came in from Jersey with Andrew, another Ani DiFranco listee. They met us at our hotel and we first headed back to the Nederlander to pick up our tickets. Unfortunately, when we got there it was 8:30 and the box office was closed. We went outside and found that Andrew had disappeared. He had snuck into the theatre. A few minutes he came out with a shit-eating grin. He had seen a bit of “Light my candle.” We headed 10 blocks back up to Ellen’s Stardust Diner. The wait staff sang. Someone did “You light up my life.” The fries sucked. It was my newest definition of hell. We decided to try to crash an after-party for a screening of Drunks, being held rather ironically at Bar 6. An excellent place to celebrate a movie about a group of alcoholics. The point was to catch a sighting of Parker Posey, who was my favorite person in the world that year. No dice. We ended up meeting up with Miki’s friend Adam and going to this Friends-like coffee shop, The Big Cup, on 8th & 22nd in Chelsea, until Lisa & I were so dead tired that we headed back to the hotel.
On Saturday morning, we went to Rockefeller Center and watched people skating as we had breakfast. Lisa & I bought Yankees baseball caps(?!?) and then we went to Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, the one sight my mom really wanted to see. We checked out of our hotel at noon and moved our stuff to Lisa’s room at The Crowne Plaza on 49th & Broadway, where she was staying the rest of the week for a convention she was working. While Dave and mom went to do their own thing, Lisa and I wandered around the Theatre District before my matinee started. It was just as amazing. For the matinee, Darius played Benny and Mark Leroy Jackson played Collins, making Jesse L. Martin the only original cast member that I didn’t get to see. (At least not until a decade later, when I was living in New York and waited behind him at New Andy’s Deli on 18th street, buying a soda during my lunch break.) I didn’t have time to stick around after the show, but I did say hello to Timothy again, who was collecting money for Broadway Cares. No Anthony Rapp sightings, much to my heart’s dismay.
I would never in a million years have thought that I’d eventually be living in the city that seemed like such a gigantic adventure back then. Since then, I’ve seen two different touring productions of the show and you know that when I watch it, I’m probably lip-syncing every single line. And, yes, I have the movie on DVD. Even though it is definitely flawed. What saddens me is that as much as I still love Rent, I find that it’s harder for me to really believe in what it has to say. When the show debuted it was inspirational, almost a religion. Now I find myself as a cynical thirtysomething, rolling my eyes at some moments, thinking it’s a bit of a rose-colored fantasy. This thought makes me sad and I have to say that listening to the cast recording this morning makes me think that maybe I can feel that optimism once again. That period of my life, the initial experience of Rent and especially that weekend was one of the most incredible experiences in my life & I'm so glad I got to share it with the people I love the most.
next time: where do i put this fire? this bright red feeling?
In October of 1996, Johnette Napolitano of Concrete Blonde was featured on an album by The Heads (who were Talking Heads without lead singer David Byrne). She performed on two tracks of the album No Talking, Just Head and toured with the band. I never really got into most of the music on the disc, with the exception of Johnette's collaboration, the lead single, "The damage I've done."
Again, I just longed for a Johnette solo album, but I would have to wait another decade for it.
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For my first Indigo Girls show(s), I traveled a bit. I actually went all the way to New Orleans. They were taking part in the New Orleans Jazz Festival on May 2, 1996 and would be playing another show at the University of New Orleans two days later with Joan Baez and Joan Osborne. A lot of people from The List were planning a trip and I thought I could make it on my own, but in the end I pitched the idea of a trip to New Orleans to my Dad and we made a trip out of it with my brother. I'd never been to New Orleans before. I had read about it a lot, mostly through the tons of Anne Rice books I used to read.
The trip up from Miami was long and as usual driving through Florida is a tremendous bore. If you go the quickest way, you're cutting through the middle of the state and the scenery is pretty dull. I love riding along the coast of Florida, through the small beach towns, especially on the east coast, with the Atlantic right outside of your window. One of my fantasy places to live (and I have many) would be somewhere like Flagler Beach, right on the water. And then I remember what hurricane season means for those adorable little towns and think, "maybe not." During the ride up I remember clearly sitting in the back seat and playing the Ani DiFranco disc I'd picked up in Atlanta on my Discman.
Once we got to New Orleans, we visited Bourbon Street, one of the old cemeteries (and I seem to remember wanting to find a very specific one - probably because of some Rice novel) and yes, we even followed the crowd to Anne Rice's house. In retrospect, how creepy is that? Just imagine having these groups of people (mostly in all black) lingering outside of your home? She was actually in the phone book! Although one thing I really wanted, but didn't get to do was have a beignet. I need to get back for that at the very least.
The Jazz Fest was crowded and full of music. I feel like if it had been two years later, when I had started to listen to some jazz, I would have appreciated it more. But I was there for one reason only. Okay, two: Indigo Girls! The people from The List had a plan - we'd all wear shirts with cows on them to recognize a fellow IG list person. This was inspired by an exchange of dialogue during a live recording of "Galileo" on the 1200 Curfews album. Part of the song talks about the idea of reincarnation and before they play it, they talk about Galileo and imagine him reincarnated as a cow in a field somewhere, looking up at the stars. Just before the song begins, one of the Girls says "moo" - and that sparked a whole debate on the list. No one could say for sure if it was Amy or Emily who said "moo!" I got a plain white v-neck tee, knowing that it would be hot out, and some cow stencils from Michael's and quoted the line about the cow looking up at the stars. I think it was a bit early for me to really have known anyone from the list very well, so I had a vague idea of some of the people who'd be there. I was a newbie. While my dad & Dave wandered through the festival, I found the stage the Girls were playing on and went as far as I could to the front. I think the Chamber Brothers were playing. I just remember that I stood in the same spot for a very, very long time and got very, very sunburned. But IG fans being who they are, I did get found and eventually a group of people from the list were all around and it was time for the show. The first song they played was "Reunion." I seem to remember that they also played a few songs for the first time in public at these two shows: "Shame on you," "Get out the map," and "Don't give that girl a gun," which I think might have been played before. These songs would all end up being on their Shaming of the Sun album.
Two days later, Dad & Dave dropped me off at the University of New Orleans to see the second show. Joan Osborne played first and the place seemed to empty considerably after her set. Then Joan Baez. I can't talk about it, I'm not a fan. Again, seats emptied. Finally, the Girls took the stage. By this time, a lot of us had moved further up into the empty seats and it was a great time. For the encore, they were joined by Baez and another singer from Atlanta who I had heard of through The List, Michelle Malone. They mentioned that Michelle had a new album coming out called Beneath the Devil Moon and then they played a few songs, culminating in a cover of the Rolling Stones song "Wild horses." Anyone who's heard Michelle sing that song will understand how completely in awe I was of her voice. It was my favorite song of the whole weekend and when I heard Beneath the Devil Moon, it became one of my favorite albums of that year. One of the list people had taped both shows and then put them on CDs and sent copies to those of us who were there. I treasure those CDs always because they capture one of the most memorable weekends of my life.
In the Spring of 1996 I made the acquaintance of two women who both became important parts of my life. Okay, sort of. I mean, I've never met one of them personally, and the other one I had known for some months via the wonderful world of AOL. As I mentioned previously, when I arrived on the internet, the first thing I did was look up more information about Christian Bale and the first people I became friends with online were Baleheads. One was a girl in California, a high school student called Brianne. Eventually she introduced me to another Balehead from Atlanta, Lisa Dupre. The three of us would usually be online around the same time every night and we'd hang out in a private chat room talking about Christian, movies, musicals and music. Eventually we'd mail each other mix tapes, too. I totally clicked with Lisa and I remember praising the music of Sarah McLachlan and the Indigo Girls to her. I know that at the time she listened to mostly musicals; we bonded over Andrew Lloyd Webber and our love for Michael Ball from Aspects of Love. So at one point, I made her a mix tape: One side had Sarah McLachlan, the other had the Indigo Girls. She loved it.
While my brother was on Spring Break that year, he and my mom and I were going up to visit my Aunt Charlotte & Uncle Bill in Cleveland, Georgia. Lisa and I made plans to meet up in Atlanta for lunch. We finally met face to face at Rainy Day Records, a local store that was a favorite among the people on the Indigo Girls mailing list I was part of. At the record shop, Lisa asked me which Indigo Girls album she should start with and I told her Rites of Passage, since it was my personal favorite. (so there! see?) We both ate our favorite meal, chicken fingers, at Grady's and posed for a photo, with Lisa holding a photo of Brianne, the third member of our nightly trio. Whenever I'd visit Lisa, we'd usually end up going back to Grady's for a meal, but I think Rainy Day Records is probably gone by now. I know people usually say stuff like "Oh their music changed my life!" or whatever, but that little act of making a mix tape for my friend actually ended up having a giant impact on her life. Because now Lisa (who has seen the Indigo Girls probably hundreds of times, traveling to see them play) helps run the official IG and Amy Ray websites. In fact, earlier this year Lisa and Dee came up to NYC for a show Amy did at Housing Works. After the show, Lisa introduced me to Amy as the person who introduced her to the Indigo Girls. Amy smiled, said "Wow! Good to meet you!" and shook my hand. Life can be pretty awesomely strange sometimes, no?
However, it was at Rainy Day Records that I also made the acquaintance of another longtime companion: Ani DiFranco. Through the IG list, I kept hearing about other musicians: Dar Williams, Michelle Malone and Ani DiFranco, who seemed to be mentioned above all others. Not long before our trip to Georgia, I had heard one of Ani's songs on WVUM and decided to give her a try. At the record store, I discovered that she had recorded tons of albums. I chose the most recent one at the time, Not a Pretty Girl. From the opening effect of swirling guitars on "Worthy" I was hooked. Ani had a sound that was absolutely her own. Especially her guitar work which is sort of muscular and bold - I can't explain it better than that, but she's one of the few artists whose guitar playing I can recognize because it seems to have its own unique voice. Lyrically, she was smart and witty, brash and fierce. I loved the fact that she had released all of her albums on her own label, and in fact, she has continued to chart her own course during her career. I became a huge fan.
While Not a Pretty Girl is still one of my favorite Ani albums, it is the one she released a few weeks after I discovered her, Dilate, that is my all-time favorite. It's one of those beautiful and heartbreaking albums that always seemed to me to be about unrequited love, which is my area of expertise. I immediately delved into Ani's backlist as well, her first few albums are just her and her guitar, but sound just as rich as the rest of her work. However, some of the best Ani stuff are the live recordings, especially Living in Clip. Her music continues to push boundaries and even when I'm not completely transfixed, it is always worth listening to the little folk singer who could.
next time: get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down
If you don't know this song or Joni Mitchell, you should press play and listen to her gorgeous live version of "River" while you read:
By the winter of 1996, I had fallen in love with the Indigo Girls cover of "River" on 1200 Curfews and heard Roseanne Cash's version of the song as well as Sarah McLachlan's cover of "Blue" on 1995's excellent Spirit of '73 compilation, which featured several amazing women performing covers of 70s tunes as a benefit for Rock For Choice. This, combined with the advice of a fellow Balehead, Brianne, inspired me to give Joni Mitchell a listen. I chose the album that had both of the songs I'd heard: Blue.
For anyone unfamiliar with Joni's music, I should say that 1971's Blue is not just her greatest album, but also an essential album. It is full of poetry, acoustic guitar that rings with joy or sadness and of course, Joni Mitchell's beautiful voice. Especially in her early work, she sang so clearly and was full of light and humor as well as that beautiful melancholy that I am always drawn to in music. As long as I'm on the subject of beautiful and sad, "River" is still my very favorite song of Joni Mitchell's, the most gorgeous song on the album. "Blue" is so perfect that it makes it very difficult for me to hear anyone else perform it. I fell madly in love for "A case of you" which is my second all-time favorite Joni song. But there are also songs like "California" and "Carey" and "All I want" that are more upbeat and just as good. I also have a special fondness for "The last time I saw Richard" obviously, which includes the lyric "I'm gonna blow this damn candle out / I don't want nobody coming over to my table / I got nothing to talk to anybody about". It's like the song was written for me. I fell hard for Blue and then Brianne suggested that I try Court and Spark. It was fantastic, a little more pop-sounding than Blue, but I adored "Help me" and recognized "Free man in Paris" from having heard it at my job. Speaking of which, I recorded both albums onto a cassette, one on each side, and would bring it to work with me. At that point, I had moved on to the video game booth at Toys R Us and was able to play the radio while I worked. I probably wore out that cassette over the Christmas season.
Over the years I have continued to listen to Joni Mitchell. It's strange, though. As much as I love her and as much as her lyrics are an integral part of her music, I feel about her music outside of a few albums, the way I do about jazz. I will find myself in a certain state of mind and think, "I need to listen to Hejira or Don Juan's Reckless Daughter" because of the mood they have, rather than for specific songs. (Much like the way I'll think "I have to listen to Kind of Blue or Charles Mingus" for the same reasons. I'll eventually talk about how I was introduced to jazz and the strange relationship I have with jazz music, but it's hard to explain.) It may also be due to the fact that Joni's work ended up being influenced by jazz (she even collaborated with Mingus), but while there are some Mitchell albums I can play and sing along with, there are some that play and just sort of seep into me the way a film score will, that I appreciate for the feeling that comes over me when I hear them.
In 2000, she recorded an album of standards called Both Sides Now that also included new recordings of "River" and the title track. By then her soprano had deepened and gained a rasp, years of smoking cigarettes. But it makes listening to her new recording of "Both sides now" even more powerful. Two years later, she would record new versions of several of her songs with an orchestra for the two-disc set, Travelogue. It's a gorgeous collection by a woman who is still an extraordinary artist.
next time: 14th street the garbage swirls like a cyclone / 3:00 in the afternoon & i'm going home / F train is full of high school students / so much shouting, so much laughter
An aside- the new issue of my usual writing gig, Pictures & Frames Magazine, is now online. This month includes JM's reviews of Inglourious Basterds and the new Phoenix album. I contributed a piece about the American versions of The Office and State of Play, a review of Florence + The Machine's brilliant Lungs, Margaret Atwood's new novel, The Year of the Flood and a spotlight on Alfred Hitchcock. I also contributed the second part of a short story to the Focus! page. Book review PS: I'm sooooo glad I read The Year of the Flood first. I just finished Oryx & Crake and that cliffhanger would have killed me. Especially if it had lasted 6 years the way it did for anyone who read it in 2003 when it was originally published!
Tomorrow or Saturday I will return with my piece about Joni Mitchell. I promise.
A few years ago, I decided that I would make an autobiographical mixtape of songs. I love music more than just about anything in the world (except for maybe movies), so many of my memories are connected to songs. Now in the age of itunes, I've turned these songs into the mother of all playlists and thought it might be fun to blog about the songs and the memories that go along with them.
